


There Will Be Coming Snows

by obtenebrate



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: F L U F F, Fluff, In this the Dadsona has been on platonic third dates with most dads, M/M, Post-Ending, don't mind the oc sometimes i like to shake things up what's up, more tags will appear as they become relevant to the story, this could be the fluffiest thing that could be attributed to my hand.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 21:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11632260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obtenebrate/pseuds/obtenebrate
Summary: Winter Break has come to Maple Bay, and so trailing the holiday spirit that has come to roost comes Amanda fresh from her first semester at her dream art school. While Ambrose has come to expand his family to include Brian and Daisy, a familiar face has come to grow into into a new person: His nephew from the fractured Stockton family has nowhere to go besides where Amanda drags him.As preparations for the big christmas party come underway, everyone seems to have their role to play. Team Stockton has indeed a lot of catching up to do, and terra incognito to tread yet still.





	There Will Be Coming Snows

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for giving this story a go! I wanted to stretch my writing legs a bit after a slump, and I figured this was a good way to start. Feel free to give your thoughts if you felt there's anything worth mentioning, and I hope you enjoy!

**CLOUDS WERE GATHERING ON MAPLE BAY, IN GREAT TIDES** of steel and pewter, but the cul-de-sac that Ambrose Stockton had found a nest in was no colder for the sun’s absence. In fact, the neighborhood shortly tonight would only be warmer for the renewed presence of a little bird who was returning from whence they came.

Let the fairytale begin on a winter’s morning, then, with a drop of freshly spilled coffee on an ivory countertop loosed by shaky hands: a drop as dark as the night was to come, black as the spray paint that Lucien and Ernest left on several of the fences that Brian had to paint over. Of course, it followed that no matter how much Ambrose tried to hide the worse parts of how he felt, he was always helpless to be discovered so plainly by Brian that something left him with some unease.

“Nervous?” Came Brian, from across the living room as Ambrose stared at the cake he made, with trepidation tightening his hand around the plastic frosting dispenser almost enough to make the corrections he... maybe thought were perhaps necessary with enough thought. “The cake looks fine, I promise. Unless staring a hole into it is a deliberate design choice, then I believe in you and offer you what support I can.”

That broke Ambrose from his reverie, and the cake would remain sans holes for the moment, at least. “Would you rather I do it to you?” He rumbled as he shifted his burly frame to lean on the kitchen counter, only marginally less stiff than he was before.

Brian let a soft puff of air pass through his nose before he let a smile wash over his features. “You usually never ask, first. But I’ll say yes if you stop worrying so much. Besides, you’re so worked up, you haven’t even noticed the chunk of frosting in your beard that’s been sitting there for twenty minutes.”

Perhaps, Ambrose thought, that maroon and purple icing went well together, but whatever half-constructed joke about color theory he had in his head fell apart as it reached his lips. So, instead, he went simple: “Maybe I was saving it for you.”

This time, it was full blown scoff, though the way Brian’s eyebrows shot up was satisfaction enough for him. “Don’t we have enough problems getting hair in our teeth?”

Ambrose dug out the offending substance with a finger and dabbed it into his mouth. “Never heard you complain about it before.” He said as he wet a paper towel to address the mess in earnest.

Brian turns in full from the couch and rests against the back. “Yeah, but Amanda’s never seen you pull an orange hair from your mouth.”

Another drop of coffee hits the counter. “I’m nervous again.” Defeated.

Brian finally arises from his comfy spot on the couch, one which he spent hard-earned time creating the perfect indent, to make his way to Ambrose. All that, for the sake of letting Ambrose sink into an embrace which stilled shaking hands and quelled quaking bones. “You shouldn’t have coffee before these things. Gives you jitters.” And before Ambrose could protest, he smoothed his swept back hair and let a bristly kiss grace his forehead. “Everything will be fine. Amanda will be thrilled to see you, and she’s going to think that cake is the best one in the whole world.”

Ambrose let a deep breath pass through him, falling deeper into the trance that always took over when he was surrounded on all sides by his boyfriend. “Everything will be fine, Amanda will be thrilled, nothing will go wrong, the universe won’t enter its phase of contraction….”

Brian could only give a blink and a hollow stare. “What?”

“We won’t hit the critical levels of entropy, time won’t go backward….”

Brian loosened his grip on Ambrose. “I want to debate this, and I feel like that’s wrong, but I don’t know enough about space to argue against it.”

Soon enough, he was interrupted by another voice. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I don’t any of that is going to happen. Well, some of it. Maybe not anytime soon.”

Brian fully loosened the hug and let his hands fall to his sides. “Always a bottle of sunshine, Daisy.” He says, somehow absent any hint of sarcasm.

Daisy smiled and trotted up to the cake, but found her attention stolen by the two wrapped packages next to it. “You got Amanda two presents?” She asked with a canted head.

Ambrose shook his head, “No, one’s for her plus one.”

Daisy only blinked. Brian, in turn, quirked a brow. “Your…. Nephew?”

“Plus one, yes.” Ambrose affirmed.

Brian placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and shook his head. “I can’t help but be clueless on how to approach this.” Though there was some attempt at humor in his resignation, Ambrose couldn’t help but notice how the creases of his eyes etched a semblance of sadness that struck a chord of guilt within him.

Though, before he found the strength to at all confront anything genuine within him, Daisy thankfully piped in again. “By the way, Amanda’s coming up on our street.”

Both Brian and Ambrose turned their attention to her with no small measure of confusion. Ambrose was the first one to break the silence. “Brian, dear, did your daughter finally become so smart she actually developed her psychic mutant powers? Is she one of those X-mans, now?” He then slowly turned his head to Brian. “...Are _you_?”

Brian seemed comfortable being completely lost, now.

Daisy help up her phone. “Actually, I have her on Snapchat. It lets me see where she is.”

“I don’t know if I like that.” Brain said. “I don’t think I like that.”

“Me neither-.” But before Ambrose could even finish that thought, the doorbell rang. Ambrose paled. “I’m nervous again.” His bones were concrete in his limbs.

Brian gave a herculean push that moved the densest of stone, “Too late, have to deal with it.” He said, and so Ambrose was cast towards the front door and left to open it himself.

In the interest of not making himself worse than he already was, he gave the knob a turn and the door seeed to swing open with the force of a hurricane. As the storm blew past his door frame, Amanda’s voice called out as she struck Ambrose with a hug. “Dad!” Ambrose nearly forgot all memory of what unease was as he was instinctively compelled to return the hug with all his dad strength, which seemed to be considerable as Amanda gave an ‘oof’ to remind him to lighten it up. From, behind, Brian joined in naturally with Daisy giving her own awkward attempt to join the group hug puddle. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Soon enough, though, she was the first one to release her grip as she stepped back. With a flourish and a lopsided smile, she introduced the scrawny looking teenage boy with cotton-candy blue colored hair on the verge of having to look past it to see them. “And here’s the newest member of Team Stockton, fifth-wheel extraordinaire: Cousin Basil.”

Basil gave a bow of the head and regarded each of the family. Had he just been standing there during the hug the whole time, Ambrose had to wonder. He wondered if it was with that same stare one would see in some moody independent music video playing in Vinyl Fantasy VII, that dispassionate gaze meant for window-staring than engaging actual people. But he was polite enough, if Ambrose had to guess.

“Ah, yes. I am… kind of okay at being that. Basil Lacroix, it’s good to meet you all.” He said, sounding like puberty couldn’t decide whether to stay or leave with his airy voice. He gave a smile, muted as it was.

“I guess that makes me uncle Ambrose. Nice to see you again.” Ambrose replied, taking a few steps closer to hold out his hand. “You got taller. I mean, not that tall… but taller, I guess.” Any apologetic tone in his voice was offset by the smug grin he so openly carried.

Basil blinked, but gave a serviceable enough shake. His hands were surprisingly rough for such small things, and his blue eyes were scarily similar to Ambrose’s own. Though, he couldn’t help but think Basil’s held far more ice than he would care to bear. “No one ever lets me live that down.”

Amanda’s voice came from inside the house, “Hey! Dad! Your frosting emojis are so sick, now!”

Ambrose immediately disengaged from the broody-looking bubblegum teen and bolted as casually as he could towards his daughter, his dad pride swelling and making his leg-moving muscles the size of two dads that day, plus one. “Thanks, Panda! I’ve been practicing art of my own while you were gone!” He leaned on the counter and nudged a plate towards his daughter. “I almost don’t want to cut the cake. It’d ruin my masterpiece, I think I’d rather just sign it.”

Amanda rolls her eyes and reaches for the frosting dispenser. “Then sign it.” She said as she took out her phone and went to the camera app. “I know back in the day you had to use stone tablets for these things, but I promise I’ll make it easy on you.”

While Ambrose was scoffing, taking what was offered and signing his creation with a star, Brian, Daisy, and Basil were acquainting themselves. Though, Ambrose could barely hear the young man with his reserved tone. Amanda took the picture with her phone and performed whatever mystic hand gestures she used to navigate her magic witch-glass. Afterward, she waved over to Basil.

“Hey! Come get some cake, Basil! Then you can watch dad pretend he can’t bake when you compliment him!” She called out, shattering Ambrose’s facade in one fell swoop. But it was in vain, for he had many more waiting.

Amanda couldn’t crack them all.

As Basil came up and inspected the cake, he gave Ambrose a nod of approval as Amanda had already cut a few slices. As the two ate, Brian took the time to address Basil. “So, you two go to the same art school?”

Basil waited until he was done chewing before he answered. “Yes. We found out when I recognized Amanda’s name on the sign-in sheet.”

Amanda, in complete contrast, contributed not only a rebuttal, but a few crumbs that had once resided in her mouth. “Yep! Since he was only going to be staying in his dorm for the holidays, I decided he would reconnect with us!”

Brian stroked his beard, almost piercing with his eyes the dye in his brightly colored hair in some effort to discern his original color. But as he spoke, his expression softened, “That’s great to hear! What’s your major. Basil?”

“Well,” Basil started, as he tapped the plate with his plastic fork, “I’m pursuing a major in interior design, with a minor in studio art.”

Amanda gave a wide smile. “Yep! We already planned our careers out. We’re starting a new family business, you see. We’ll get Brian to general contract the homes, Basil’s going to interior design the crap out of them, and I’ll take pictures so we can advertise them. We’re going to be rich!”

Brian looked at them with an eyebrow raised, “No one seemed to ask me about this plan.”

Basil regarded Brian with a half-smile tugging upward a corner of his lips, still tapping the plate. “It’s okay, Amanda had it figured out. We decided that while your input is valued and respected... it was, in the end…” He concludes his tapping with a definitive smack, punctuating it with a brief silence, “...unnecessary, to our goals.”

Brian seemed to react to that statement in the same way that one would react to being struck by a flyswatter.

Basil, before Brian could question and unpack that, jerked his thumb towards Amanda. “Puppy dog eyes.” Casual in tone but grave in warning.

Ambrose could have sworn he had never seen the big bear move so fast, and soon enough both of Brian’s hands were on his shoulder as he used her father as a shield from her charms.

A fool he was, going to the man who could save him the least.

“Manda Panda, no emotional manipulation at the dinner table.” Ambrose bluffed, unprepared for the onslaught.

Amanda gave a shit-eating grin, and waved a hand dismissively. “Calm down, you’re safe. We’re joking.”

No, she was biding her time for the best time to strike. But as the standoff was delayed, Ambrose felt a buzz in his pocket. He took out his phone and read the text from Mat, squinting his eyes.

_Hey! Now is the BEST time to being Amanda to the Coffee Spoon. Get her here as soon as you can, okay?_

Before anyone could ask, the doorbell chimed once more. Ambrose put his phone in his pocket and made his way to answer the door. On the other side was Joseph, and a plate of cookies that he would be sure Amanda would call mediocre. “Is the guest of honor here?” He called out with a winsome smile to pair with it.

Amanda jumped from her seat and to the door. “If those are cookies, you bet she is!” Her eyes, of course, were on the prize and nowhere else.

Joseph conceded to her desires and relinquished the cookie plate, extending a warm greeting with an equally warm expression to the rest of the family. “How’s the reunion been?” He asked.

Brian gave a grin. “I believe I was drafted into the new family business. These two seem interested in expanding Maple Bay with more real estate, one fabulously designed house at a time.”

Joseph gives a laugh at that and eyes the two teens. “It’s good to see you two planning on your careers. Just remember, changing majors is very common, and it’s not shameful to change them to reflect your passions.”

Ambrose piped in. “Unless it’s basket weaving. We all know why people remember that major.”

Daisy blinked. “Is there something wrong with it?”

Ambrose shook his head. “It’s because no math classes are needed for the program. _Amanda_.”

Amanda scoffed. “I made a convincing LinkedIn profile for it and you know it.” She did, but that wasn’t entirely the point.

“Math is just learning a new language,” Daisy started, “I don’t see why people have to treat it like this big impossible hurdle. I mean… it’s just a bunch of rules you follow, it’s the same every time.”

Brian seemed to swell with pride at her passion.

Amanda frowned. “New? Rules? Reliability?” She shook her head. “You just listed, like, my worst nightmares!” Daisy frowned, but silently conceded her point.

Joseph, however, seemed to eye Basil as the boy seemed content staring near the window. “I don’t think we’ve met! You’re the nephew Ambrose was talking about, right?”

Basil seemed to snap out of a daze at that, but offered a courteous nod and gave a soft smile. “I am. I’m Basil Lacroix, and you?”

“Joseph Christiansen. Is there anything in particular you were thinking about back there? You seemed lost in thought.”

Basil tapped his chin, and gave his answer without much in regard for scrutability or even humor, “I was wondering what it would be like to see ghosts.”

Amanda sniffed. “You made fun of my _Long Haul Ice Road Paranormal Ghost Truckers_ DVD set! What gives you the right to wonder that?”

Basil smiled. “The same right that lets me wonder why trucks have escape buttons.”

Ambrose felt a gut-punch intuition sense, and Amanda flashed the puppy eyes at him. “Dad, cover my ears!” With the same bolstered speed, she was soon sheltered from a world of harsh lies and harsher agendas thanks to his dad hands.

“We don’t speak that kind of language in that house, mister!” With desperation in Ambrose’s voice.

Joseph gave the group an eyebrow quirk, but as well a rich laugh as he gave a small bow. “I’ll leave you to your reunion before I tear it further apart with my questions. Talk to me more when you’re free, alright, Amanda?”

With uncovered ears, Amanda gave him her best finger guns. “You got it, Mr. Christiansen.”

With that, he took his leave, and with that, Ambrose spoke. “You know who has a batch of Right Said Banana Bread waiting for you, Panda?”

Amanda’s eyes, Ambrose swore, may very well had grown to be wider than her stomach, and so she grabbed Basil by the arm. “We have to go, now! This is the bread I talked about, and Mat’s probably got it fresh!”

Brian gave Ambrose a meaningful look, and then it was decided. “Alright!” Ambrose said, as he grabbed his car keys. “We’re off to the Coffee Spoon.”

As they left the house, Ambrose could see the cul-de-sac and where it led to the rest of Maple Bay. The muted tones of the sky did nothing to distract from the brightly colored, idyllic little villa he had parked himself. With Amanda at his side and calling shotgun, with Brian welling with nothing but pride and love for his burgeoning family, Ambrose couldn’t help but notice Basil sitting on the sidelines even as he was snug against Brian in the back of the car.

“Hey, Basil?” Ambrose said to him.

The young man regarded him with a cant of the head.

“Thanks for coming by. I know things haven’t been easy for you, but…” Ambrose gave a pause as the thought of his sister came up, and he knew better than to see the bitterness that came with it cast loose in Basil’s direction. “I’m glad it seems like we’re getting off on the right foot.”

Brian nodded in agreement. “Feel free to speak up more. We want to get to get to know you.”

Basil gave another one of his reserved smiles. “Thank you both. I do appreciate the hospitality I’m given, and it’s good to see you after all this time.”

Amanda grinned back at him from the front seat. “Just talk to him about colors, or Launchpads, or film theory. He’ll never shut up, I promise.”

Ambrose smirked under his mustache. “I’ll be sure to put those in the Google before I give it a go, I promise.”

Basil blinked. “Colors, in... ‘The Google’?”

“I know what I said.” With utter smarm dripping from Ambrose.

As they reached the Coffee Spoon, it was immediately apparent something was of particular note within by the people that crowded around the door. Lights seemed to shine from inside, flashing in patterns that would give any self-respecting dads a headache. As some entered, one could have even spotted smoke that crawled along the ground as if a warning.

But it was not one anyone would want to heed, as the bass drum beats kicked louder with their approach...


End file.
